Thursday 12 April 2018

I want my time with you

A busy start to the week, and early on Tuesday as I was arriving at St Pancras I noticed that there was a new artwork in the station, and it seemed to be a neon sign. I didn't get a chance to pay any more attention to it than that as I dashed off for my tube train.

However, on my way home I went for a closer look and this is what it said.

I want my time

It turns out that it had only just arrived, and even featured on the news later that evening, including an interview with Tracy Emin about why she'd decided that those words were appropriate.

I know who I want my time with. In fact I've known for a very long time.

To seal the deal, there was even a busker in the station playing and singing at one of the pianos:

I don't want clever conversation
I never want to work that hard
I just want someone that I can talk to
I love you just the way you are.

Tuesday 3 April 2018

Proofing

Getting quite good at proof-reading now. Although, probably getting to the stage where I wouldn't see mistakes for looking.

Monday 2 April 2018

Attachment

A week or so ago, admitting that I was struggling a bit, Nicky and I talked about how talking about grief was much better than keeping things bottled up inside. And, of course, she's right. It's a lesson I've always struggled with, but particularly at the moment, not wanting to appear down to the rest of my family. However, there's no hiding some things.

Nicky bought me a book - 'It's OK that you're not OK' which I am getting in to. And the following piece under a heading of 'Attachment is Survival' seemed appropriate:

"Real safety is in entering each other's pain, recognising ourselves inside it. As one of my oldest teachers used to say, poignancy is kinship. It's evidence of connection. That we hurt for each other shows our relatedness. Our limbic systems, our hearts, and our bodies are made for this; we long for that connection.

That you see your own potential for grief and loss in someone else's grief? That's beautiful. Poignancy is kinship.

When emotion comes up, we can let that poignancy run through us. It hurts, but it hurts because we're related, because we're connected. It should hurt. There's nothing wrong with that. When we recognise pain and grief as a healthy response to loss, we can respond with skill and grace, rather than blame and bypass. We can respond by loving one another, no matter what happens."

Sunday 1 April 2018

Easter

I could start off with talk of a new plan as we go into a new month / quarter about getting into a new blogging habit, but that is dangerous talk, and my recent track record has not been good.

In any case, it has bee great to have a few days off. A brief moment of calm amongst some pretty busy times at work. We've been doing very little so far with the long weekend, partly to recharge those batteries, partly because the weather hasn't been great, and partly because we've been at home with the littler dog who is still recovering from her 'little operation'. Still, I think we are going to try harder and actually go out somewhere tomorrow.

Having said that, we did manage an evening out yesterday. We went with Jen and Jon to the new restaurant in Maidstone (formerly the White Rabbit, now Miller & Carter steakhouse). Food was excellent, service from Frank was middling, and a fine time was had by all. I'm sure we'll be back - can't go to a good steak restaurant and not end up taking Jake.

Jake and Izzy have been on the south coast (Bracklesham Bay) with the Crans yesterday and today - I think Izzy's longest drive so far in her Mini. The rest of the family are staying for the week, by they are on their way back now. Jake is off to a basketball game tomorrow, and they are both in school a fair bit this week for revision sessions.

At church this morning it was Nathan's last service with us before he goes to his new post in Rainham. Again his sermon seemed apt. Previously he'd spoken about 'taking up your cross' (maybe more about that another time). Today he was talking about Easter Saturday and how it represents that period of darkness after after loss. It might be tough, but better times are coming.